Page 42 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

He smiled. “Yeah, I know. Why’d you think I did all this?” he said, gesturing to the picnic. Then his smile faltered. “I want us to get to know each other properly. Do this right.”

“And what does ‘right’ look like?”

“Hell if I know,” he admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “Been a while since I tried this.”

Sophie shifted closer. “For what it’s worth, I’m not exactly an expert at relationships either. Every time I think I’ve figured things out…”

“Life throws you in a lake?”

“Something like that.”

Luke reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Sophie, I don’t want to rush you. You’re building something here. Your bookshop, your new life. Last thing you need is some local getting in the way of that.”

“Is that what you think you’d be?” she asked. “In the way?”

He shrugged, a gesture that tried for casual but missed by a mile. “Claire thought so. Eventually.”

The name hung between them, heavy with unspoken history.

“Tell me about her,” Sophie said gently. “If you want to.”

Luke was quiet for so long she thought he might refuse. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She moved here from Washington, D.C., eight years ago after getting a job at a fancy development place in Elmsworth Falls called Cascade Frontier Developments. They’re the biggest employer in these parts.” He frowned. “They get a kick out of buying up places like Solace Springs, gut them from the inside out and slap on a fresh coat of overpriced paint. Call it ‘revitalization’ when it’s really just replacement.” His eyes drifted toward Solace Springs in the distance. “Claire was on the graduate scheme there, looking to work her way up. She’d chartered my boat for what she called ‘location scouting.’ By the time I figured out what that really meant, I was…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Compromised.”

Sophie felt a horrible twist of jealousy.

“She moved in six months later,” Luke continued, “bringing her fancy espresso machine and plans to ‘elevate’ my place. Should’ve seen it then—how she talked about the lake like it was wasted potential, how she’d roll her eyes when Mabel told her ghost stories about the inn.”

“Says you!” Sophie pointed out with a laugh.

He laughed, too. “Well, my many years here have earned me the right. Anyway,” he continued with a sigh, “all the time, Claire was working on transforming the town, starting with the boathouses. Called them ‘underutilized waterfront assets.’ Wanted to tear them all down, build vacation rentals with sleek glass facades where people from the city could play at being rustic for a weekend.”

“And you actually stayed with her? Meanwhile, I suggest a slightly different shade of green for the upstairs wall and you look at me like I’ve proposed burning the place down and—” She stopped mid-sentence, pressing her lips together as her own words echoed back to her. And that’s me officially sounding like a jealous teenager comparing herself to his ex. Brilliant, Soph.

“I was stupid, Sophie,” Luke said. “Ignored every red flag because I thought I’d hit some kind of lottery.” He reached over, his fingers brushing against hers on the dock planks. “Trust me, your green wall ideas aren’t what’s keeping me up at night. It’s making sure I don’t screw things up the same way twice.”

Sophie felt a warm flutter in her tummy at his touch, the heat of his fingers against hers sending a current up her arm. For a moment, she found herself leaning slightly forward, drawn to him like the lake to the shore. His mouth was right there and everything in her wanted to close that distance.

But he’d just laid his past bare—it deserved more than her acting on impulse.

“Well,” she said softly, “lucky for you I’m not here with any corporate backing. Just me, my savings, my mum’s inheritance and…” She paused, about to add the bit about her crowdfunding backers. Something stopped her. Something that told her Luke wouldn’t approve; that this wasn’t the time. “…and an absolutely ridiculous amount of Pinterest boards. So, what happened?”

Luke’s eyes met hers, dark with an unresolved hurt. “A coupla years after we met, I saw her company’s plans for the town on her desk. Couldn’t help but look. Damn pleased I did. They wanted to bulldoze half the lakefront properties, replace our stores with chain shops and build a five-story hotel right where the cherry trees bloom each spring.”

Sophie shook her head. “Wow.”

“Yeah. I confronted her, we had a big fight. Julie, the one who sold your place to you?” Sophie nodded. “She overheard. Told the town council. Gave the council enough time to oppose the proposal. Thing is,” he added with a sigh, “I wouldn’t have done that to Claire, just gone to the council. I’d have tried to talk her out of it, any other way but betray her. Like I said, I was dumb back then.” He gave Sophie a wry smile that made her want to throw her arms around him and comfort him. “But she did see it as a betrayal,” he said. “She accused me of turning the town against her. Said I was holding Solace Springs back, that I was afraid of change, afraid of success. That I’d never be more than a small-town boatman with grease under his fingernails.”

“Oh, Luke,” Sophie said, squeezing his hand.

“I woke up the next day and she was gone. Left a note saying I cared more about the past than our future.” He looked up at her then, raw honesty in his gaze. “Maybe she was right.”

“I don’t think so,” Sophie said firmly. “Caring about history, about community, about preserving what matters—that’s not being stuck in the past. That’s understanding what gives a place its soul.”

Luke studied her face, as if searching for something. “You get it. I’m starting to see that. I gotta be honest with you, Soph.”

Soph. He called me Soph.

Why’d it make her stomach flip like that? As if her body was responding to some primal claim he’d made without even realizing it.